


But this time everyone lives

by brigitwritesstuff



Category: The Last of the Mohicans - James Fenimore Cooper
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-10-18 16:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10620318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brigitwritesstuff/pseuds/brigitwritesstuff
Summary: The ending of the book Last of the Mohicans made me so sad and the movie was trash, so I'm going rogue and doing my own thing. Lots of Cora+Uncas and as much Gamut as a person can handle.





	1. Sarabandes and Hidden Scissors (we don't talk about the scissors)

The battle was over. All were safe, David Gamut had made some tremendous character development, and Cora and Uncas were alive.

          He’d been cut by Magua on the chest. Though he bled, Chingachgook put pressure on the wound by tying his own hunting shirt around his son. But since it was nothing that couldn’t be fixed and healed, it was no problem. Besides, it was a sign of bravery to have scars on your chest. No matter how damn much they hurt at the time.

          The whole group returned with the other Delawares, all rejoicing greatly. The warriors whooped and yet were on guard, lest more Hurons coming after them. David sang his tunes loud enough for God himself in heaven to hear. Heyward and Hawkeye spoke together, Duncan offering endless praise to his friend. Chingachgook beamed at his victorious son and Munro openly wept tears of joy for his daughters, who held each hand of their aging father.

          "Cora, Elsie, I promise on my own grave that I will never put you in such danger - such trauma - again." Munro used Alice's hand to wipe some cold tears from his cheek.

          "Papa, it doesn't matter now that we're together." She replied, putting her head on his shoulder.

          "It does, my little darling. I was not doing what I ought to have as a father. And you believe me when I say that it will take an act of divine intervention to ever let the two of you out of my sight ever again. I may just die of grief at the thought of us ever so much as being under separate roofs." He squeezed his daughter's hands.

          Heyward and Uncas both heard and took note of this.

          Cora looked lovingly to her father. "I am indebted to the Mohicans and Delawares for coming so quickly to my aid. Especially Uncas. Without his quick feet, I would be no more." She gave a glance back to him, happy as can be. His mouth did not move but his eyes glowed.

          Chingachgook replied "It was the dark-skin Munro who was bravest."

          "Uncas did not much." The warrior added.

          Hawkeye smiled, seeing his brother's affections. "Yet he did take such a special interest and effort to ensure your wellbeing. I suppose he was overcome with want to defeat the Hurons. Is that it boy?"

          Still not changing his expression, Uncas used a quick foot to step on Hawkeye's, eliciting a little yelp from him.

          Obliviously, Munro replied "Of course he was! He is a brave young Indian! The Indians are not unlike the white boys in their pursuit of justice! I see the same righteous fire in the eyes of my men..." He trailed off, realizing he should have used the past tense for that last sentence, but was too broken-hearted to. He simply continued crying.

          David rested for a second from singing to speak his praise instead. "Whether they be fierce soldiers or new born babes, I pledge my allegiance and friendship to you men forever." He patted Chingachgook on the back, who nodded in return. "And, of course, most of all to Miss Munro."

          They continued to walk a little while until they were back, and the rest of the Delawares were equally as thankful for their success. Women hugged their husbands and children leapt into the arms of their fathers. The ancient Tamenund gave them his praise and ordered that that night be a celebration.

          The people happily followed this order. They ate and drank and were merry. During the festivities, Cora and Alice learned to dance like the Delaware women - much to the amusement of everyone else. They gave it their best efforts and often lost their breath amidst all the leaping and hopping.

          When the women were seemingly done, Heyward got up and said "Now teach them how we dance in England!"

          The girls looked to their new native friends, who were very willing to give it a shot. They paired each lady up with a man. Alice took Heyward by the hand and Cora looked for someone who might have her.

          Hawkeye pushed his brother forward. "Uncas loves dancing! You should have seen his dance to Manitou before we got you!"

          The noble man seemed ever-so-slightly embarrassed to be singled out, but Cora was very pleased. "I'd love to, but would it aggravate your injury?"

          "What harm could a dancing maiden cause?" Hawkeye replied in Uncas' place.

          "Plenty, sir!" She replied, and said quietly to her partner, "But I will be gentle.”

          He nodded, hanging onto every word.

          "First, hold your partner's hand and put the other on your own hip." Cora displayed this with Uncas, who translated what she said for the natives. His hand was warm against her cold fingers.

          "Then kick your left leg and step..." They all did so.

          "Then right..."

          "Now step with the outside foot and turn to face one another." Some began to struggle and giggled as they fell apart.

          "Now put your left foot behind you, put your right with it, and cross over... And now gallop over to one another!"

          No one but Alice and Duncan did this right. Everyone else knocked right into one another and laughed. Uncas tried very hard to do as Cora said, but he accidently stepped on her foot. When she tried to step back, she was stuck under his foot and fell over on her backside. Uncas was appalled at himself and quickly went to pick her up. "Uncas is sorry. Sorry." He said.

          Cora reached out took his arms before quickly and playfully pulling him right down on the ground into her lap. Unbalanced, he rolled off her and onto the ground. Everyone laughed at the befooled warrior. Even Uncas himself couldn't help but smile.

          Alice whispered to Duncan "She's silly! She's never silly."

          "That's for stepping on my foot!" Cora joked.

          He replied sarcastically "Has Uncas earned this betrayal?"

           "But I thought you did it to get those dastardly Hurons!"

          He idly dusted the dirt off his pants. "There are many reasons to do things."

          "Yes, I'm sure. Well you're lucky I let you fall onto me. I took pity on the injury you sustained on my behalf. You're well, yes?"

          "Yes."

          "Good. I couldn't sleep at night if I'd so much as bruised you."

          Alice kneeled on the ground between Uncas and her sister. "Well, now that we've had our fun, we ought to call it a night."

          Uncas' smile was gone and he returned to his resting, beautiful face.

          "Oh, well, thank you Uncas." They took each other's hands and stood up independently. "You were a perfect dance partner."

          He shook his head.

          "Yes, you were!.. Mostly."

          Alice and Cora walked off with their father to their temporary wigwam as Uncas watched them. Hawkeye and Chingachgook approached the boy, both fully prepared to tease him into oblivion for his crush.

          The old man merely laughed. Hawkeye said (speaking their own language) in a womanly tone "I couldn't sleep at night if I'd so much as bruised you! Oh Uncas-"

          He gave his white brother a shove, which just made him giggle more.

          "So defensive all of a sudden?"

          "You're not funny, Hawkeye."

          "No, I'm not. I'm hilarious!"

          Chingachgook spoke up. "We only jest because we love you."

          "I believe you." His son replied.

          "It feels as though one moment I could hold you in my arms and now you're up and running after the white men's daughters!"

          Uncas buried his head in his hands out of embarrassment as Hawkeye cackled. He decided to add one last piece to the teasing.

          "Singer, come sing us a sentimental song! Sing to us a love song with thine tooting weapon!"

          Uncas revealed his frowning face. Gamut, however, was more than ready to meet the request. Bounding on his gangly legs, he was at his side at once. "I am so glad you asked! I suppose my psalmery is getting through to you my dear friend!"

          "I wish I could say so, my friend, but it is in fact the young Mohican here who is in absolutely dire need of your dulcet tones!"

          "Then for you, our brave Uncas, I shall sing from the great poet Abraham Crowley, who composed Davideis. This piece is called 'The Given Heart'."

 He blew an F3 on the pitch-pipe and began singing gently and sweetly.

         "I wooooondeeer  _what_  thooose lo **oovers**  mean who say...

          They have giv'n their  **hee eeeeaaarts** away...

          Some  **go od-kind** **lo** **ver, tee eell me hooooooow!**

          For mine is but a tooo **oor ment**tooo me nooooow..."


	2. Laundry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uncas follows Cora on her early-morning chores (ft. Heyward). Cora doesn't talk about the scissors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A NOTE ON AGES: According the the Leatherstocking tales, Chincachgook was born in 1723 (he dies at the age of 70 in 1793). The time when he and his wife Wah-Ta-Wah could have conceived Uncas is 1740-1745 (time of The Deerslayer novel). This means that in The Last of the Mohicans, Uncas had to be somewhere between 17 and 12. HOWEVER, Chingachgook is portrayed as an old man in the same book, when in reality he'd only be 34. And, if Hawkeye was "young" in The Deerslayer, then he must be about Chingachgook's age, though he is not described as old.
> 
> Since James Fenimore Cooper takes liberties with age, I've said fuck it and done the same. I've decided to put Cora and Heyward at 22, Uncas at 21, Alice at 18, Hawkeye and Gamut at 30, Chingachgook at 50, and Munro at 50 (irl he was 56).
> 
>  
> 
> A NOTE ON LANGUAGE AND TRIBES: This may come as a surprise, but James Fenimore Cooper made a mistake when he called Chingachgook and Uncas "Mohicans". The tribe he was most likely referring to were the "Mahicans" with cultural pieces of the "Mohegans", which the Europeans frequently mixed up. We can assume this is from the two characters' cultural practices and Uncas' name. He is presumably named after the famous Mohegan chief Uncas, who was really cool and I suggest everyone read about. He most likely meant "Mahican" overall, as that is the tribe that lived in the area around Lake George. Also, Chingachgook and Hawkeyes distaste for the Mohawks suggests they're Mahican.
> 
> This being said, the Mohegans and Mahicans had their own languages. Fenimore Cooper had the Mohegans as allies and friends of the Delaware, and the three "Mohicans" spoke Lenape (the language of the Delawares). Lenape and Mohegan and Mahicans are all Algonquian languages, but different still. It should be assumed that when the three speak to one another in their native language, it is either Mahican or Mohegan. And when they speak to Delawares, it is Lenape.
> 
> The Mohegans, Mahicans, Pequot, and Delaware are all related ethnic groups.
> 
> I personally have been trying to work Mohegan elements, but from here on in I'm going to try to use more Mahican stuff.

          The next morning, Uncas woke up fairly early. He left the wigwam and went to check in on the Munroes. There was a candle lit within, though the sun was steadily rising. Cora sat within, skillfully threading a metal needle. She didn't get that from the village, but he'd come to learn that there were some things she'd been hiding on her the whole time. He entered and sat beside her. "Hello Uncas," she greeted, not looking up from or leaving her task, "How are things this morning?"

          "Good..." He noticed the younger Munro's skirt on Cora's lap, torn up a bit. He pointed to the fabric. "Alice."

          "Yes. Somewhere on our hellish journey, her clothes got ripped. So I will fix it." Her eyes darted to her sleeping sister. "I really ought not have you in here. Beneath that blanket, she's just in her shift."

          "Oh." Uncas began to stand, but she grabbed his arm.

          "No, I don't want you to go. She's not up yet and I need the company. Besides, you're trustworthy."

          Verbally unresponsive, he sat back down. She cut the end of her thread against her premolar teeth, tied the end, and began to go to work. The young brave watched the needle pass to and fro, to and fro, to and fro. Maybe 20 stitches in, Cora accidently pricked herself. She didn't exclaim or so much as react. She merely brought the finger into her eyesight, looked at the droplet of blood, licked it away, and continued on.

          "Huh." Uncas muttered, concerned.

          "I know. I don't often slip up, having done this time and time again. But every two thousand miles of thread or so, one has to get stung. I suppose you haven't picked up a needle yourself, being a warrior." She put the hand back on the skirt's underside.

          "Cora speaks much alone." He observed.  

          "And you barely speak at all, do you?"

          He shook his head.

          "If we spoke the same language, would I hear more than a word at a time from you?" She grinned ever so slightly, not looking up at him.

          "May-be." Replied the brave, hoping that his aloof attitude might provoke further conversation.

          "Hmm. How do you say 'needle' in Lenape?"

          He said, in his melodious voice, "Ay-sh-kahn-sh."

          "Ay-sh-kahn-sh." Echoed the girl.

          "Yes, very good."

          "Thank you! How do you say that in Lenape?"

          "Wan- _ih_ -shi."

          "Then 'wanishi', Uncas."

          Both their stone-statue faces now wore amicable smiles. Neither had flirted with someone before. The new interaction was welcome. Cora, realizing he'd diverted her from her work, broke the gaze. The native man did not, and took his chance to study the woman before him. Her skin was the color of dry earth, and dark curls threatened to burst from the bun she had them contained in. Her hands were plump and youthful, but skillful and worn-in like those of working women of a poorer status than her. Little dark hairs grew on her arm, or at least on that part which her sleeves didn't cover.

          When Cora was done, she drew the thread up to her teeth to cut, but Uncas stopped her. Instead, he drew his knife and sliced it. She beamed.

          "Wanishi, Uncas."

          At that moment, Duncan stepped into the wigwam. He was all dressed-up as the major he was, and not the woodsman who he'd should have become by now. The candle shed light on him in the front, and the dim dawn glowed against his back. "Ah, good morning you two!"

          "Hello Duncan." She said, laying her sister's finished skirt over her. "Alice and my father are still sleeping. Both have been through so much."

          "Well for every hour they sleep, you must sleep two. You've been so greatly mistreated and yet so strong. And you, Uncas, deserve just as much rest." The Brit gave a big, beautiful smile.

          "Thank you." He replied.

          "So, Duncan, what brings you here? Has something gone wrong?"

          "Oh nothing, I assure you. I only wanted to ask your father when he felt we should leave."

          "Oh." She murmured. She'd forgotten entirely that she had a home elsewhere.

          No one spoke. Duncan looked down at his shoes and Uncas stared off at nothing. He was a stone-statue again. He thought that maybe if he stayed like that, he wouldn't get upset.

          "And what of Mr Gamut?" Asked Cora, breaking the silence.

          "I don't know. I assume he'll be following us. Right now, he is doing whatever chores the Delawares have to do. He says that the Lord of Hosts wants him to show his gratitude to these hospitable people." Duncan's face and tone told the rest of the story - that David was being his usual goofy self as he went about his tasks.

          "That is good of him... Perhaps I ought to do the same." She stood and took her sister's skirt again. "I'm going to wash this. Heyward, if you may show yourself out, I'm sure they'll wake soon."

          "Oh, of course. My apologies."

          "No worries. Uncas, is there anything of yours you'd like me to wash as well?"       

          He nodded, stood, and led her back to his wigwam. The sky was illuminated, but the ground at their feet stayed dark like the nighttime. Had it not been cast against the orange sunrise, his wigwam would have looked like a mound of dirt. Inside, his father and Hawkeye sat in the dark, talking about some of their typical things - rivers and Mingos and whathaveyou. They stopped when Cora entered.

          "Good morning, Hawkeye. Morning, Mr Chingachgook."

          Hawkeye grinned. "His name is _only_ Chingachgook. No need for titles."

          She nodded. "I'm doing laundry."

          The scout was a little surprised. "Ah, of course. Thank you. Well, there's some clothes over here." He handed her a pile of sweat-smelling hides and cloth. "And this." Then, he passed Chingachgook's hunting shirt, dyed brown with his son's dried blood and caked-in dirt. It wasn't just that, though, it was also adorned with tears, frays, and missing buttons.

          "Oh, Chingachgook, you cannot keep wearing this." She said, poking a finger through one of the holes.

          He furrowed his brows and tilted his head.

          "It is worn to hell and back. Please, let me make a new one."

          Hawkeye intervened, "Cora, the Indian man doesn't mind what the white man does."

          "I don't believe you. No chief should have to use this and no friend of mine ever will." She directed her eyes to the Sachem. "I can have you a new one in no time. Until then, I'll wash it and you can keep it."

          Chingachgook smiled so brightly and sweetly that it could be mistaken for nothing other than permission and thanks. "Please, take my son with you. He knows the way."

          Uncas took his bow and quiver that were leaning against the wall and, without another word, the two left. The weather that day was warm and the plants themselves seemed to grow a little straighter and greener than before. Squirrels and birds shared the forest without going at one another's necks. The Horican was full, flowing, and blue with the sky's reflection. Water slowed over the rocks and became white on its ends. The earth had raised its white flag for the day.

          Cora knelt down by the lake and dipped Alice's skirt in. Uncas sat on a rock beside her. She could feel his eyes watching her work.

          After surveying her surroundings, she turned to the warrior and said "You might not be surprised that I have some soap on me after all this." She reached under her skirt and untied her pockets from around her hips. "I, um, I had a feeling that before we'd left for Fort William-Henry that something might go wrong, so I hid my pockets under my shift and sewed shut the slits in my skirt. Of course, my biggest worry was that Alice and I, uh, would be separated from Duncan and... the other one. That I ought to bring some things that might be valuable that I don't want anyone else using."

          He nodded, soaking up every word.

          "Maybe you'd guessed that. You all know about the scissors." She bowed her head and gritted her teeth. "I could have used them when I was sewing, but I don't really want to touch them anytime soon. And I don't want anyone knowing about my things. I might need them. I **don't** want to share them." She gave him a look that fell somewhere between desperate and threatening.

          Uncas, clearly having learned some snarky-ness from Hawkeye, pointed to his family's clothes in her laundry pile. Somewhere under his outward expression, he grinned.

          She rubbed some of the soap on the skirt. "Ok, yes, I am technically sharing. But you can't tell anyone. These things are for my sister and I. And maybe my father. But mostly my sister."

          "You are mother to her." He said.

          "Kind of. I do her chores and worry about her like a mother. I protect her from things and people I don't like and boys and Majors-." Her eyes widened once she realized what things had fallen from her mouth.

          "Heyward?" He asked.

          "Oh, no, I love Duncan! I shouldn't have said that. He's a great man." She put the skirt underwater. "A great man who may never be great enough for my sister."

          Uncas smiled widely and earnestly that time. He'd never known enough people to be able to gossip. The most shit-talking he'd heard before was Hawkeye and his father musing on the "knavish, skulking, rampaging Mingo varlets". It was more fun than he'd imagined. "Heyward is not good?"

          "No, he's fine. It's just... He tries too hard, doesn't he?"

          Uncas didn't give and response.

          "If you're going to have a conversation with me, you have to react to what I say at some point."

          Reluctantly, he said "Yes."

          "Right? Tell me some things he's done."

          "Uh, he tried to run like the Mohican."

          "He cannot."

          "No."

          "He's fast, though. Maybe faster than your father and, on a good day, faster than Hawkeye. But he will never be quicker than The Bounding Elk!" She smiled to him, trying to get across that she had very purposefully complimented him.

          "No. The white man must shoot."

          "But not like Hawkeye."

          "No. The Major must be clever."

          "But not like our enemy, Le Renard."

          "No." He could find no other role for Duncan to fufill.

          "He is so desperate for my father's approval. I don't know. I guess it's just... Alice isn't very independent, so she could use the best of the best. Not that he's not the best - I love Heyward. She will marry him, I'm sure. They're in love, and my father can't seem to see any problem." She chuckled to herself. "The only thing that bothers him is his younger daughter marrying before his eldest."

          She picked up another article of clothing and noticed Uncas' confused look. "Oh, white fathers marry their daughters off in order of their birth. I am 22 years old and unmarried, while Alice is 18. Of course, I am at a fine age and Alice is very young..." She dug the soap into the dirty hide she held in her hands. "My father would probably rather that Duncan marry _me_." Cora cringed. Uncas scowled.

          "Hugh!" Exclaimed the lad.

          "But praise be to God that my father loves me enough not to do that to me! Wouldn't I make _such_ a _helpful_ wife to _such_ a _helpless_ man?" She laughed, but he did not.

          Scathingly, he retored "A helpless man does not deserve a wife."

          "Oh, he deserves a wife. But maybe not Alice, and never-ever-ever me. If he turns himself around, I'll give my blessing to him and my sister. As if my opinion matters."

          The two were silent for a while after that. Cora just continued to wash the clothes and Uncas paid attention to every noise, movement, and gust of wind in the forest around them. After about fifteen minutes, he slowly drew his bow and arrow, aiming at something in the trees. Cora watched him and her heart raced, sure that someone malicious was in the brush. They were going to die. They'd been captured.

          Uncas let the arrow fly and a "SQRAAAW!" rang out as something hit the earth. It was a bird, thank God. Casually, he walked over and returned with his kill. It was a black, white, and gray bird. It's neck and breast had white pinstripes and its wings were like zebra skin - a beautiful loon.

          The warrior was not a braggart, but he didn't go out of his way to be humble when he saw how impressed the object of his affections was. He held it before her while she petted its plumage.

          "What a watchful eye! And your aim is impeccable! Is there anything you can't do?"

          He didn't respond. Only an ever-so slight smile crossed his face.

          "It's feathers are so beautiful. It's almost a shame to kill it."

          "We will eat."

          "Yes, we will. Well, I'm almost done here, so we'll be off in a second." She put her little lump of soap back in her pockets and tied them back over her hips. Meanwhile, Uncas carefully pulled some feathers from the wings. When Cora stood and gathered up the wet clothes, they returned to the village. All was as peaceful as when their last walk. They tried to walk in their previous footprints - Uncas out of habit and Cora out of politeness.

          She found a tree nearby their wigwam and hanged everything in the branches to dry. Once her hands were free, he offered her the feathers he'd plucked. They were black with a white patch on each side.

          "Oh, thank you! Er, 'wanihshi', that is! They are beautiful." She twirled each one between her fingers, feeling the resistance the air had to their surface area.

          Heyward happened to be strolling past and made a B line to his friends when he saw them. "Oh, hello! Cora! Uncas!"

          "Ah, hello Duncan. Has anything happened since we've been off?"

          "Yes, I spoke with your father. He says we will remain in a village only one full day more before we leave for your family home in Albany."

          "I suppose we'd have to at some point. How far away are we?"

          "About 20 hours if we walked non-stop. It will be roughly four days for us in reality. And Uncas, General Munro has extended the invitation to you and your family. Your father has accepted, if that's all well with you."

          He only nodded, though his heart was doing backflips in his chest. Cora suppressed a giddy grin.

          "Well, I guess we'll prepare for the journey. Where are we going to find horses?"

          "The Delawares have agreed to let us have the Naragansettes and Magua's horse, what with Uncas being who he is to Tamenund and all the women's work that the 'crazy spirit man' has done today. So I suppose that if we all switch off every now and then, we can all ride a horse for pieces of the journey. As for another, tomorrow Hawkeye and I were going off to the sight of the Fort massacre to see if there is anything left." That last sentence weight heavy on Heyward.

          "I will go." Uncas said.

          "Very good. We can use the support. We'll leave at-"

          Cora interjected "I must go too. There are some things I'd like to salvage."

          "Oh, do you think you ought to? Your father and sister could use you here."

          "No, I have to go. I need to take their old clothes. I promised to make Chingachgook a new hunting shirt."

          "There are some traumatizing sights to reminisce on there, Cora."

          "I insisted on it, and I must follow through."

          Duncan gave a sickly-sweet and condescending look. "I don't know if it's safe for you. The Hurons may still be looking for plunder. You'd only be at risk."

          She gritted her teeth. "In that case, maybe _you_ ought to stay back and do the laundry, Heyward. I'd hate to have to watch you hug someone 'til Hawkeye finds the chance to shoot them. Again." Storming off, she headed to her sister and father in their temporary wigwam.

          The besmirched Major looked to his native friend, hoping he might offer some comfort. But instead, he squinted suspiciously and stood still.

          "Am I at fault?" Duncan asked.

          "Heyward has seen the things Uncas has seen."

          "Yes."

          "And Heyward has seen what Cora has done."

          He averted his gaze, ashamed. "Yes. I have."

          The Mohican said nothing else, letting him put those two things together on his own.

          "Perhaps I have forgotten my place in these woods. On the frontier, the words of a fearless woman take prescient over those of... A fancy foot-soldier." His face was red with embarrassment.

          As much as Uncas pitied his self-deprecation, he let him be. What was he to tell him anyway? He was wrong and however he got over that was up to him. The redcoat sulked away, probably to sit in their wigwam and feel sorry for himself. Poor guy.


	3. Sisterly Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Alice finally wakes up, she and Cora have a heart-to-heart. Hawkeye shows up at an inopportune time.

          When Alice woke that morning, her ever-faithful sister was at her side. "Good morning, Elsie."

          "Good morning." She sat up. "Where is Papa?"

          "He has gotten up already. I'm sure he'll be back soon. He doesn't want to be without us, you know."

          "Have you been up long?"

          "I suppose you could say that. I fixed and cleaned your skirt."

          "Oh, I must have been fast asleep. Well, thank you."

          "It's been drying for an hour. I think I can get it for you now, but it may still be damp."

          "That's ok. You're so good to me, Cora."

          "I'm only grateful to have you safe with me. After all we've been through, I won't leave you alone for a second anymore... Though, I kind of did this morning. I had Uncas take me to the river so I could do laundry. But Papa was here with you, so you were safe."

          The girl smirked. "That boy can't take his eyes off you for a moment, can he?"

          "No, he can't." She replied, vocalizing all the delight that she felt.

          Alice's countenance slowly fell from teasing to grave as a thought came upon her. "I know this is not what you want to discuss, but Cora, how are you?"

          "Thankful to live and grateful to our saviors."

          The younger expressed pity and some frustration. "Cora, they are our saviors for many instances, but you ignore a key piece of the story."

          "I cannot ignore my own actions." Replied she, simply and stubbornly.

          "In the end, you did what deserves the most thanks."

          "Does it? Or does it warrant stares and fear and confusion? Because those are all I see in the eyes of the men around us. I'm just glad we can be making our leave before every Delaware warrior catches this case of dumbstruck looks."

          "It is foolish to look back on that event and be most shocked by the response to it. You were clever and brave." Insisted Alice, scooting closer to her sister.

          "I know this as well as you and they, but they know not how to process it. Don't you remember how the Mohicans spoke of us on our first meeting? That we are 'flowers so sweet, never made for the wilderness'?"

          Embarrassed, she admitted "I thought nothing of it."

          "No, you didn't. My darling Elsie, though I love you, you think nothing of those things. But I ruminate on it enough for the both of us. And they were so sure, dear sister. So sure of our dependence. I startled them."

          "What you did is nothing to be sorry for." Seeing Cora wasn't listening, she desperately grabbed her arm. Looking into the elder's eyes, she declared "You killed Magua."

          "I know."

          "How am I to know that you know if you don't say it? Say it. Say you had those scissors hidden on you."

          "Shhh! They were hidden for a reason and I'd like them to remain so."

          "Oh, are you so bull-headed? All secrets are over! Everyone knows now of your surreptitious supplies, and it is not of such import to others."

          "Yes, it is. These things are for you and I, lest we be in danger or need again. The men cannot provide us all we need."

          "Why so distrustful?"

          "Because I have reason to be. It all comes back to our perceived reliance on them, Alice! When we relinquish these few tools we have, we relinquish our independence." She opened her arms for her sad sister and embraced her like a child. "Oh my dearest, don't frown so much. I only want to protect us. The men do a good job but it takes more than four when you're up against all the Iroquois in these woods."

          "Ok, Cora. Thank you. You know I love you."

          "And I love you."

          The women sat like that for some time, each studying the other's heartbeat and breathing. Alice knew her sister so well. She remembered that stone-cold child she once was who would punch any little boy daring enough to try pulling her pigtails. She remembered the countless evenings that she made the two of them dinner while their father was otherwise occupied. Cora was capable of anything. Powerful and prideful Cora.

          "Well," Began the younger, "I want to talk about Uncas."

          "Oh, of course you do!" The elder replied jauntily.

          "Yes yes yes! When you were dancing with him last night, I saw how giddy you were! Where did my serious sister go?"

          "I was only silly because he looked silly."

          " _No oo_! It's because you think he's handsome and brave and-"

          "Shhhh! Lord, you're a child!"

          She started to sing one of those teasing nursery rhymes. " _♪_ Cora and Uncas, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G! _♪_ "

          " ** _Shhhhhhh_**!"

          " _♪_ First comes _love_ , then comes _marriage_ , then comes- _♪_ "

          Unfortunately for Cora, Hawkeye entered the wigwam at that moment, laughing at Alice's song. The singer dove back under her blankets, remembering she was still in her shift. Completely humiliated, the elder buried her head in her hands.

          "Don't hide, my lady! It is an honor to have a song written after you. Perhaps our lanky music master could learn it and pass it on to the children of the village! Wouldn't that be something?"

          "Lord, must I be tested so often?" She asked, addressing the sky.

          "Don't pity yourself. I only poke fun. Chingachgook asked me to see that all was well here, after all the dangers we've seen."

          "Yes, it is. I've made some process on his hunting shirt. I've taken the measurements and un-stitched the pieces that are not salvageable."

          "Oh, how long I've slept." Alice muttered to herself.

          Hawkeye ignored the younger. "You've done all that just this morning? Did you take any time to breath or blink, lady?"

          "There are precious few minutes. With so much to be done and so little time and resources to do so, we must be quick." She inhaled and, forcibly calming herself, added "But there is no cause for worry. Tomorrow, we will take the rest of the plunder to be had out there."

          "Yes, I heard from Heyward that you'd be accompanying us." Strained and uncharacteristically sympathetic, he mumbled "And I believe he wishes you'd forgive him for any offenses he's caused."

          "Offenses?" Exclaimed Alice.

          "I'm sure you don't want to be the mouthpiece for any quarrels." Replied Cora.

          " _Quarrels_?" She echoed, more concerned.

          "No, I don't want to be. It is territory as new to me as the frontier is to the true European."

          "Then don't spare one more thought to it. It was merely a matter of ignorance."

          " ** _Ignorance_**???"

          Cora continued. "He is a good man, and very dear to this family. But I do not want him thinking it will be so easy to earn my or my father's favors."

          The younger decided not to question further. In her mind, her father had already given them his blessing. Heyward had said so when he rescued her from the Hurons. Little did she know, he hadn't exactly been telling the truth. He'd only said so to make her feel happy in a time of great turmoil. Not to mention, he might just be able to slip that little detail past the Colonel in the midst of all the chaos.

          But not Cora.

          "Well," Said Hawkeye, "I will be getting to the other things I have to do today. Yell if you need anything, I suppose."

          "Thank you. I will. Be safe out there."

          "I need not be safe, but rather prepared." And with that, he left them as quickly as he'd come.


	4. Cooking the Loon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They cook the loon Uncas killed and talk about where to go from here. This one's a short chapter, but I really like it.

That night, they roasted the loon that Uncas had killed that morning. Cora had prepared it (careful to keep the skin and feathers intact) and was turning it over the spit and watched the flames lick its skin. They had a little iron pan in the fire to catch any fat, which was like gold. She swore that the king himself would be jealous of the meal they were about to have.

          Alice played with the feathers that her sister had plucked from the bird. They were so soft and beautiful. If only she had a whole pile of them to climb into and sleep in as opposed to the hard ground of the wigwam. Cora saw her playing with the plumage and took hers from their safe place in her petticoat waist. "Look Alice, here's some pretty ones."

          She took them with delight. "Wow! Where did you get these?"

          "This same loon. Uncas plucked them out for me."

          Alice looked at the Mohican, who didn't react. She grinned to think how head-over-heels those two graven people were for each other. She wondered if the boy would ever move into a home with her sister, or if her sister would move into the woods. She wondered if instead of a wedding ring, he'd give her more feathers.

          Munro, still not totally there, thanked the boy for watching over his daughter. He cautiously replied "you're welcome", but wasn't quite sure where the old man was coming from. If he really knew how the two felt about one another, he might not approve of them being alone together.

          The Colonel looked at Chingachgook and said "So tell me, have you been to Albany before?"

          "No. Are there many people there?"

          "In the town, yes, but where my home is there is no one. It's a simple place for me and my daughters to stay when we're in the colonies and not at work. When we arrive there, I'm going to have to send a letter to the King... Let him know that I still live."

          He considered this for a second before saying "Who is the chief of Brits? Who is the leader?"

          "The King George the Third. But there are so many more below him and below them and below that that it would be of little import to you." Idly twirling a twig between his fingers, he added  "I don't know how much it means to even me anymore."

          The other white people felt so sorry for him. He was once so proud of the social ladder he'd climbed. There was a void where that fulfillment once was. There were voids where most things once were. The Natives, however, found it hard to relate to this. Tamenund may have been the Delaware leader, but the Mohicans were alone on this earth with Hawkeye. No one above them and no one below.

          Cora's stomach knotted at the thought of home. How could she go home after all that's happened? Then again, how could she not go back? Turning the spit, she wished the cooking fire would peacefully engulf her until she was no more than a heap of ashes to float away. Then she wouldn't have to choose one place to go. She could be everywhere all at once.

          Alice saw the arresting dread in her sister's face. She looked like she absolutely had to either scream or implode. "Cora, let me cook the chicken. Cora. Cora? Are you listening?"

          "Huh?"

          "Cora, step away from the fire. Let me do it."

          "Ok. Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." She walked on her knees over to the log where her father sat and put her back up against it, head facing up at the sky. The poor thing was star struck with her own imagination. The Colonel put a hand on his daughter's shoulder, subconsciously trying to keep her mind from flying permanently through the forest.

          Heyward found some comfort into returning to business. "Sir, would you like me to begin drafting a letter? I haven't and paper or pen, but there is birch and charcoal out here. We don't have to waste a second."

          Munro shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I'll write it later, but I bet he's forgotten me. I bet if I died he wouldn't give half a thought to burying me."

          Cora's hand shot up from her sides and took her father's, squeezing with affection and desperation all at once, while she said nothing. Alice started to sniffle and weep. The father held out his free arm for the other daughter. "Oh, Elsie, don't cry for me. Come here."

          She turned around and tossed herself into her father's embrace. This familial tenderness made the rest feel warm and woebegone all at once. Hawkeye said "Tis the affliction of the human - we feel fearful even when those very fearful times are behind us."

          "Yes," Cora replied, "It is. But they're not behind us. We've been made smart enough to know that the fearful times envelope us like the air. Inside us and outside us and all around us."

          Her sister shivered. She dropped the Colonel's hand to pet Alice's hair.


	5. Nighttime Antics - Black Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The younger ones play games after dark.

          All but Munro and Chingachgook sat around the fire after the sun had gone down, staring into the embers. They simply hadn't moved from their seats since eating. Though they ought to have been getting to bed for their upcoming day, and yet there they were. Alice was catching a childish sense of restlessness and insisted that they play some kind of game. She called out her different thoughts in whisper-tones, as before.

          "Let's play pattycake."

          Heyward shook his head. "That's too simple."

          "How about Jack Straws? We'll use sticks and rocks."

          "No, that gets boring."

          "Hopscotch?"

          "Too dark."

          She got into her thinker-style sitting position and let the cogs in her brain turn like wild. After a minute or too, she had another idea. "How about Black Cat? The Mohicans here will love it and the darkness is advantageous."

          He idly "Hmmm... Explain the rules again for us."

          "Ok, so in 'Black Cat' (she uses air quotes to show Uncas that it's a proper noun), We pick one person to hide in the bushes and the rest of us run or walk around a certain area in a circle, let's say, these two wigwams. The Black Cat will pop out when they think it best and 'tag' someone, that is, touch them. That person then also becomes a Black Cat and we keep going until there's only one person left."

          "Well you'll be hard-pressed to catch this warrior!" Hawkeye bragged, patting his beloved Uncas on the back.

          Alice stuck her tongue out at the scout while Cora said "You'd be surprised. It's a hard game. You can't just run into the woods when you're found - you have to stay in the same area."

          Heyward leaned towards Hawkeye and antagonized "Besides, in the dark of these woods, you never know if you've been grabbed by a man or a specter."

          The hair on the older man's neck stood up. "That's no joking matter!" This provoked a devilish smile on the younger's face.

          Cora looked at the boy and said "Duncan, you be the Black Cat first. Surely you Virginian boys had land aplenty to practice running and tagging."

          "Very well. It's easier than being the prey." To make his point, he jokingly held up his hands like claws and bore his teeth. Alice laughed.

          "Ok all, get up!" Cora declared. "Close your eyes while he goes and hides. He has until the count of 30."

          The group covered their faces and began to count. The Major took off his redcoat so as to be less easily spotted and disappeared behind the wigwams.

          "28, 29, 30!" The ladies quickly scattered to the left, followed by the awkward David Gamut. Uncas threw himself to the ground and crawled out of the firelight in their same direction. Hawkeye cared not for any "Black Cat", but rather spent his time tip-toeing around and looking behind his back for otherworldly beings.

          As they rounded Chingachgook's wigwam for the second time, Heyward sprang from the brush. The Munroes put their hands over their mouths so no surprised yells could wake the others and flew away like gazelles. Hawkeye was the first to be caught on account of

it the most seriously. She **_did not_** like to lose games. Cora was drowning carelessness, but was secretly happy to now have someone watching out for him. The pair slipped back into the brush.

          After about two minutes, the scout heard a slight rustling in the dirt before them. He dove out and grabbed Uncas. The Mohican let out his typical "Hugh!" sound as he had the wind knocked out of him. To add insult to injury, Hawkeye whispered to him "tag". They both heard the snickering of the ladies grow fainter as the ran off.

          Not bitter for losing but rather focused on the task at hand, Uncas joined his friends in the brush. When the girls came around again, they were as alert as they were giddy. Alice giggled in the palm of her hand.

          They stepped lightly by, looking for eyes where leaves ought to be. Cora saw and locked eyes with Uncas before rushing off. He pursued and, of course, caught her. He picked her up in a straight lift and swung her around, her wild laughter echoing off every tree around them. He then held her in more of a bridal carry and she approvingly wrapped her arms around his neck. "Tag", he said.

          "You're strong!" She exclaimed, blushing like the dawn.

          "Wan-ih-shi." He smiled too, his face betraying admiration.

          Alice, completely not caring about her sister in the arms of the native man, decided to gloat. "I win! I win! I am faster than the Bounding Elk! My eye is keener than La Longue Carabine!" She leapt up and down and danced around before Heyward came rushing out and picked her up as well.

          "No, Alice! Tag! David hasn't been caught yet!"

          "What? No fair, he must be cheating!"

          At that moment, Gamut came around the corner. "Did someone say my name?"

          "Yes, cheater! Where were you?"

          "Walking, my lady. I lost my hat when you and your sister ran past me and I had to retrieve it. I had trouble seeing in the dark."

          Heyward laughed. "Ha! It was your fault, my dear! No worries, I love you even if you're not the victor." He kissed her on the forehead, making her whiny countenance soften a little.

          "Hey!" Cora called, still in Uncas' arms. "I saw that you two!"

          "And I see you two!" Retorted the sister, pointing at her. _"♪Cora and Uncas, sittin' in a tree♪_ -"

          Before she could get to the good part of the song, Chingachgook appeared from his wigwam. The two men put the women in their arms down, embarrassed. The ladies straightened their outfits to appear as though no nonsense had happened while he slept.

          The old man was not angry as one might expect. In truth, the young people weren't being very loud at all. They'd been speaking in whisper tones the whole time. The Sagamore's ear was just very fine-tuned to the beating of feet on the ground. Hawkeye couldn't keep back a chuckle to see his friend awoken by their after-sunlight adventures. "Chingachgook! Did womanly laughter get you up?"

          "I'm very sorry." Cora added, Alice nodding in agreement.

          He raised a wrinkled hand. "No, all is well. I only want you all to get your sleep, lest the sun rise before you set."

          The native lad said something in a sweet and apologetic way to his father, which was met with a sweeter, forgiving phrase. Hawkeye and Gamut walked into the wigwam first, waving goodnight to the rest. Then came Heyward and Alice to their separate places. Cora and Uncas went last and, when the girl saw the father's back was turned, planted a kiss on the cheek of the Mohican boy, whispered "Goodnight", and ran off.

          Uncas took a moment to process what just happened. Had he been sleeping the whole time? Perhaps he'd been dreaming? But no, for his father noticed he stopped in his tracks and put a hand on his shoulder, breaking him from his hazy state. "What is it?" He asked in their own language.

          The lad blinked, coming back to reality. "Huh? Nothing. Nothing."

          But he knew it was something. It was real, because even all while he slept, he could feel the skin on his cheek buzzing in the shape of her lips.


	6. Salvage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cora, Uncas, Hawkeye, and Heyward return to the sight of the massacre to collect leftover things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A NOTE ON CLOTHES: Women's pockets aren't like those nowadays. Pockets were separate bags from the gown and petticoats. Those other articles of clothing would have slits in them to make the pockets accessible from the outside.
> 
> A NOTE ON LANGUAGE AND TRIBES: 
> 
> I've put this note in an earlier chapter, but am putting it here as well, as it's relevant here too.
> 
> This may come as a surprise, but James Fenimore Cooper made a mistake when he called Chingachgook and Uncas "Mohicans". The tribe he was most likely referring to were the "Mahicans" with cultural pieces of the "Mohegans", which the Europeans frequently mixed up. We can assume this is from the two characters' cultural practices and Uncas' name. He is presumably named after the famous Mohegan chief Uncas, who was really cool and I suggest everyone read about. He most likely meant "Mahican" overall, as that is the tribe that lived in the area around Lake George. Also, Chingachgook and Hawkeyes distaste for the Mohawks suggests they're Mahican.
> 
> This being said, the Mohegans and Mahicans had their own languages. Fenimore Cooper had the Mohegans as allies and friends of the Delaware, and the three "Mohicans" spoke Lenape (the language of the Delawares). Lenape and Mohegan and Mahicans are all Algonquian languages, but different still. It should be assumed that when the three speak to one another in their native language, it is either Mahican or Mohegan. And when they speak to Delawares, it is Lenape.
> 
> The Mohegans, Mahicans, Pequot, and Delaware are all related ethnic groups.
> 
> I personally have been trying to work Mohegan elements, but from here on in I'm going to try to use more Mahican stuff.

 

          Before dawn the next morning, Uncas went once more the Munro's wigwam to await Cora's waking. He sat outside the entrance and idly drew in the dirt with his finger. For nearly an hour, he imagined the day ahead of him. He, Cora, Heyward, and Hawkeye would go to the site of the William Henry Massacre and gather all the supplies not already looted by the Hurons. Maybe Cora would find some nice fabrics to salvage. Maybe she'd make his father a really nice new hunting shirt that would impress him a lot. Maybe he'd be so impressed that he'd want Cora to stay in their company forever.

          When both that hour and the sun were up, Alice woke first. She left the wigwam and was startled to see someone right there, but settled down upon seeing it was a friend. "Oh, Uncas! Good morning. Is there something I can help you with?"

          "No."

          She was disappointed that he did seem to want to converse. "Oh. What'cha doin'?"

          "Waiting."

          "Yes, you're going to get some things today."                                              

          "Yes."

          She knelt down beside him. It was not polite to loom over someone while talking to them. "And my sister is going."

          "Yes."

          Alice grinned. "She thinks very fondly of you. Your company is a great comfort to her."

          He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling. "Thank you."

          "She believes there's no one in the world as strong and shrewd and sweet as you."

          The resolve to keep his cool didn't last. He grinned so bright that the earth's temperature rose by 5 degrees just by the light his incisors let off. "Thank you."

          She was getting increasingly frustrated with his aloof behavior and one-word answers. "Do you know much English?"

          "No. Hawkeye teaches Uncas."

          "But he probably stopped going to school as a young boy. I've noticed he didn't teach you grammar, either. It's hard to speak a language when you don't know how to make sentences. Like, instead of using your own name to refer to yourself, you should say ' _I_ do this, _I_ do that'. For instance, _I am_ Alice Munro. _I am_ sitting here. _I am_ wearing a gown. _I am_ talking to Uncas."

          He nodded. "I am Uncas. I am waiting here. I am wearing a hunting shirt. I am talking to Alice."

          "Yes, that's perfect. I'm sure that learning these new things is no struggle for you. You know so many languages, I bet you could speak to anyone on earth. Do you know very many English words?"

          "Not many."

          "Do you know what 'pretty' means?"

          "Beautiful."

          "Well, kind of. They're a little different. Beautiful things are very grand. Beautiful things are more serious than pretty things. Butterflies are pretty. Flowers and baby bunnies are pretty. I'm pretty. But the moon is beautiful. The ocean and Virgin Mary are beautiful. My sister is beautiful."

          He smiled. "Loon feathers are pretty."

          "Yes, you gave my _beautiful_ sister _pretty_ feathers... Do you know the word clever?"

          He taped his head. "Smart."

          "It's like smart, but not really. Smart is, uh, books and stuff, I guess. Smart is knowing how wide the Horican is, and clever is knowing how to get from one side to the next. And when Cora said you were 'shrewd', that's knowing that Narragansetts have a distinct tread, or knowing the shoe size of Mr. Gamut."

          He nodded. Conveniently, at that time, David crawled out of the other wigwam and stood up. He was tired and disheveled from staying up late. "Oh, good morning Miss Alice. Good morning Uncas. Did you sleep well?"

          "I did," Alice replied, "But Uncas here woke before dawn."

           David walked over to them. "Yes, going on an excursion today, aren't you lad?"

          He nodded.

          He took a seat on the ground with them. "The other fellows and Miss Cora ought to be up soon. One cannot sleep in the morning light - except perhaps the Colonel. Unhappy men can sleep for centuries."

          Alice's cheeks burned bright red with the shame of her father's state. Naturally, Gamut didn't notice any social faux-pas he made and kept talking. "Yes, he is quite the unhappy man. Thanks be to the Creator that his daughters are restored to him. Even so, we cannot forget the things we've seen. All his young men - like sons to him - cut down by those Hurons. I myself am not the same care-free man as before I witnessed the slaughter. I will not presume to know what he suffers inside."

          He stood up and dusted himself off. "Well, I'm off to begin my daily duties. These kind Delaware women are in need of help with their chores. All day, they carry things 'round - water, children, laundry, and whathaveyou. And no man, even if he has no preoccupations, will bother to assist the ladies! In my boyhood, I never understood it when the Christian man let his women toil whilst he sat in the shade. How sad to see it transcends oceans and bloodlines."

          As he strode away, Uncas laughed. Though Alice admired his chivalry, she had to agree with her Mohican friend that it was a touch goofy. Once Gamut disappeared into the village, she took her leave to get her own work done that day.

          The morning slowly pulled out of the gate, and more woke. The rest of the men in their own wigwam got up first. Shortly after, Cora stopped sleeping as well (George Munro continued to sleep).

          When she first became lucid again, she sat up and looked at her surroundings. She saw Uncas at the entrance, looking in at her. She smiled to see his face first thing in the morning. "Hello," She whispered, so as not to wake her father.

          "Hello." He returned in the same tone.

          "Won't you come in?" She asked.

          He did as she said and sat beside her. Yawning, she reached for her stockings that she'd left folded on the other side of her. "When do we leave today?"

          He shrugged. "Soon?"

          "I don't know either." She put the stockings on underneath her blanket. Once on, she pushed the blanket off and tied her leather garters on her thighs in the open air. Uncas watched curiously.

          "I need to hurry." Muttered Cora, going next to her stay. It was green and boned with reeds. She'd made it herself with great care and attention. With expertise, she put it on and began to lace it up with black cotton ribbon. Her fingers moved fast, pulling it through each eyelet. Three rows in, she slipped the stomacher on under the lacing and continued. Every now and then she stopped to adjust things, including letting her breasts be pushed father up. All modesty between herself and Uncas had been thrown out the window. Had it been anyone else so attentively watching her get dressed, she'd slap them. These two, though, were too close to fain and barriers between them.

          With the stay on and the busk pushed beneath the stomacher, she put on the black kerchief. It covered her cleavage, leaving the Mohican to wonder why European women needed so many layers of clothing.

          Next came her beloved pockets, which were closed when she put them on. To put on the petticoats and gown, she stood up. She threw on a belt as she and Uncas left the wigwam together. They met Hawkeye and Heyward to prepare to go.

          Alice, Gamut, and Chingachgook helped them gather what they needed for the trip, like sacs in which to put supplies. By 10:00, they were ready to go.

          Cora sat atop one Narragansett and Hawkeye atop the other. They were going to put Heyward on it, but he wanted to do a favor for his new friend and insisted he ride instead. Alice kissed her sister and begged her to be careful. She promised, and put one thumb in her pocket. Uncas took note of this almost imperceptible gesture.

          They slipped into the brown forest. Dead leaves cracked under their feet and the scent of rotting wood filled their nostrils. Light filtered through the leaves and cast green on them. Sometimes they felt themselves tear through a cobweb too fine to see, made by an absent spider. Bugs circled them as if they were cattle. No one bothered to swat them away, being all too used to it. Halfway through the journey, Hawkeye and Heyward switched places on the horse and on foot. Cora insisted that Uncas do the same with her and sit on the Narragansett, but he would not. Everyone's feelings rotated between "I don't wanna see another fucking tree in my life" and "it's a beautiful day".

          It took about two hours before they started seeing dead bodies. Cora and Duncan dismounted. All but Hawkeye checked pockets and bags (he was keeping watch). Heyward was unashamed to cry over his fallen friends, whiny and whimpering and all. Cora gave him her kerchief. Her jaw was clenched like a vice and her eyes were glossy, but would not let the surface tension of her tears be broken.

          There was little left, but some things remained. Cora removed the shirts of a man who'd been shot in the head, so the clothes had virtually no blood on them. She figured they'd fit Chingachgook well with some alteration. After looting the man's vestments, she shoveled dirt over his body with her hands. He'd been left to rot already, but if Hawkeye was right, maybe his ghost could see the respects she paid.

          When she went to semi-bury the dead body nearest to him, she noticed something off about the way he was resting. She rolled him over on his stomach, sloshing the blood that pooled under his skin. It seemed that he'd stuffed a lovely pistol down his shirt's back before he died. To the passing Native man, his unusual straight-backed death pose was nothing. But to the desperate vulture, it meant the world. She pocketed the pistol discreetly and gave thanks to his dearly departed soul.

          Uncas darted around, snagging bullets, remnants of gunpowder, buttons, and whathaveyou. As the group nears towards the center of the chaos, the body count got higher. Uncas was sad, but his expression didn't change. It never changed. Heyward continued to weep. Cora slowly and silently began to cry as well, hiding her face from the others. Outwardly, Hawkeye showed none of his cards. Inwardly, he shook.

          Cora inspected the bodies around the edge of the clearing by the woods. If she recognized a face, she would kneel down and cradle their decaying head to her bosom, as if her heatbeat could turn theirs back on. As she held one of the men to her, she felt a feeling of dread in her heart. He was trying to tell her something from beyond the grave. She abruptly stood, turned, and fumbled for the pistol she'd stowed in her pocket. It occurred to her that she had it in the other pocket, and settled for the scissors instead in her urgency. Though she'd half-expected someone to be there to begin with, it was no less alarming to find a little Native boy with a malevolent look in his eyes. He carried a tomahawk proportional to his young size but wielded it as if it was the biggest in the world. When the child saw that Cora was not about to be messed with, the reality of the situation hit him. The gleam in her own eyes was base and animal.

          Both looked at one another for maybe half a second total, but it felt like a thousand years. They quickly sized one another up. The other men noticed the presence of a new person in the field and got ready for a skirmish. They had no time, however, before Cora sprang. She threw herself on the boy and tore the tomahawk from his hands. He wailed and cried for his Mama and Papa, as children do when they're in trouble. He thought he was going to die.

          Cora did not raise her scissors at the boy. She instead grabbed his wrists with vice-like strength. By then, the Bounding Elk was at her said, valiantly armed with his knife. The boy cried out in fear.

          Cora hugged the boy tight, acting as a shield between him and Uncas. "No, stop! Stop!"

          He paused, but kept the knife raised over his head.

          "He's too little. He's too little." She breathlessly begged.

          Hawkeye ran up then, Killdeer in hand. "It's a Huron, woman! Best be rid of his kind before they grow." He raised the rifle.

          She held the child closer, and he gripped around her waist for dear life. "Please, pity him!" Her distressed maternal tone made him let down the rifle.

          Heyward arrived last, his tears mournful evaporating instantly at the thought of his friend in danger. "Good God, it's a child."

          Cora looked at the lad in her arms. "Shhh, they won't hurt you. Someone tell him we won't hurt him."

          Uncas reluctantly translated for the boy, who still wept. She patted his head and the scalp that she'd just saved. The Mohicans were still very rearing and ready to get the kid, but it was undeniable that the scene transformed from life-threatening to tender. Hawkeye growled. "Listen, he is young, but he is a Huron. He will grow and he will dedicate his life to hunting us."

          "You and your enemies! When did everyone elses' enemies have to become mine? My father's enemies, your enemies, the Delaware's enemies, the Brit's enemies... Would there be so much animosity if I'd been born anyone else?"

          "None of us can make that choice. If they're out to get your friends and family, you can't trust them. Use some reason here! This boy can't get away. He's going to run home to his father and tell them all where we are. Do you want to die?"

          "Fuck off!" She shouted, startling them with her crude language. "You quit on kindness a long time ago because eventually it stopped working between you and the other cold-hearted men in this forest, but women and children aren't so _fucking_ delusional as you." She ran a hand through the boy's long, black hair.  "When you show people mercy, chances are they won't put a knife in your back." With two hands on his face, Cora looked the little boy in his teary eyes. "Uncas, please tell him to go home. Tell him we're going to leave him alone and tell him to do the same to us. Tell him not to talk about what happened out here and to just go home to his mother."

          He translated after receiving an approving look from his brother. The boy nodded and cried a little less to hear he was free. The woman wiped the remaining tears from his cheeks before letting her arms fall to her sides. The lad could run off, but he lingered for a moment and memorized her face. Her forgiving face that he wanted only a moment ago to drive his tiny hatchet through. He considered himself, in that moment, to be the cruelest, stupidest person ever to live. What good could have come of him pretending to be a grown man? And to saunter into the forest alone?

          In his shame, he stood and ran away fast. Cora turned to look at the men and said to Hawkeye "Wanna shoot him? Do it. Shoot him in the back of the head right now, _Hawkeye_."

          He was thrown off by the vitriol with which she said his name. It was almost sarcastic. No one had ever addressed him like that. "No."

          "Why not?"

          "He's too far away now."

          She looked at the body she'd been tending to just a few short moments ago. "Even a hundred yards is nothing to La Longue Carabine."

          None of them replied to this. They gradually returned to their looting, even more on guard than before. After about an hour, they went over what they'd found and mounted their horses. Walking back, the woods seemed more sinister than before, knowing anyone could be watching them. The smell of rotting wood and the green hue on all things was now ominous.

          When they returned, the others were overjoyed to see them safe. The four emptied their sacs and showed the group what they'd gathered. The list was:

  * 2 redcoats
  * 3 shirts
  * 1 women's shift
  * 2 pairs of boots (two left and two right shoes, but taken from different people)
  * A small bag full of buttons, baubles, broken pottery etc. (Just some cool stuff Uncas picked up)
  * Gunpowder
  * A pistol (not the one Cora took)
  * Ammo
  * 4 empty canteens
  * 3 empty knapsacks (not-great condition)
  * A fairly tattered women's shawl
  * A cooking fireplace crane
  * A meat grinder with no handle, probably repairable
  * 2 dented tin lanterns (one with a mostly-burnt tallow candle inside)
  * 7 clothespins (pretty ratty and homemade)
  * 4 spoons (2 pretty bent)
  * Honorable mention: Alice had rendered the loon fat while they were gone so it would have a longer shelf life.



          They were very happy with the spoils of the trip. Even better yet, Chingachgook had shot a raccoon and a crow earlier in the day. You'd think the creatures were made of pure gold the way the group drooled over them. They all carefully worked together to pluck feathers, remove skin, and ready the fire. That last night in the Delaware village would be a feast.

          While Cora lit the fire, Uncas de-feathered the crow beside her. She enjoyed his company and noticed his conversational skills had improved ever so slightly. "It was very, very nice of you to translate for me today." She said.

          "You're welcome... The boy..."

          "Yes?"

          "I worry."

          "Worry that his elders will be after us on our way to Albany?"

          "Yes."

          "I have no doubt that they will be." She hung the fat drippings pan from the spit. "But no more than if we'd killed him. Perhaps even less. I believe whole-heartedly that kindness is repaid. One way or another."

          He did not respond to this.

          "I don't suppose you feel the same."

          "... I wish."


	7. Dads and Dugouts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, but I think it's essential to the story. A good amount of plot points are set up in this one.

          They dug into that night's dinner like their lives depended on it. Even Alice, with all her grace and manners, ate with her hands. The group discussed their upcoming journey.

          "Four days of walking," said Colonel Munro, "Tis a long time, you know."

          Hawkeye nodded. "Yes, it is. My friends here have discussed different paths to take. Perhaps if we could procure another canoe, we could walk to our caves at the falls and take the river down towards the city."

          "How might we find another canoe?" Heyward asked.

          "Well you'll be hard-pressed to find any. Canoes are very valuable. It takes great effort to make one."

          Alice took a break from her eating. "I swear, I would float down the river holding to a log for dear life if it meant I got home eventually."

          Hawkeye smiled. "You have a new spirit, Alice."    

          "Maybe I do." She put another morsel of raccoon meat in her mouth.

          Heyward nodded. "None of us are the same since when we entered these woods as we will be when we leave - except maybe our Mohican friends."

          Chingachgook shook his head.  "No, I am a new man. Never again will I risk my son." He looked at Uncas, who smiled to his father.

          "Nor I my daughters." Replied Munro, talking Alices' free hand. She wasn't paying attention, of course. She was thanking God Almighty for the greasy vermin meat.

          Gamut smiled. "I can only imagine what it feels to be a father. For me, a child would draw away from my connection to The Lord. The child must be your whole life."

          Chingachgook nodded and asked Hawkeye to translate something from his own language to English. The scout repeated the following: "As a young man, I didn't understand the significance of being a father. I thought it was a stage of life all men went through. But when Wah-Ta-Wah bore Uncas and I looked at my son for the first time, it occurred to me that my life was not my own, but my son's. I didn't want it to be any other way.  Wah-Ta-Wah passed away from the strains of childbirth and though I grieved, I could not feel despair when I had Uncas with me. Mere days ago, on that cliffside when I saw him struggle with the enemy so fiercely, I imagined a future without my boy." Hawkeye felt himself begin to tear up and his voice waver, but he kept translating. "And there was none to imagine, because if Uncas had died that day, so would have I."

          Uncas put an arm around his father and thanked him. Alice wept a bit. "That was beautiful, Mr Chingachgook." Cora wiped the tears from her sister's cheek.

          The Sachem looked at the eldest sister and said himself "We have you to thank, Cora."

          All eyes in the circle turned their attention to her. Her face went red. "I suppose."

          "I _know_. Why ashamed?"

          "I'm not fond of attention. And though people say out loud how proud they are of me, they don't look at me like they used to. I don't know..." She balled up her petticoats in her fists. Suddenly she looked up and said "Do you think we could trade our Narragansetts for another canoe?"

          They were taken aback by the abrupt topic change. Alice whimpered at the prospect of selling her horse. Hawkeye thought about it, "You could sell each horse for one canoe, I bet.."

          "Good then. Let's wake early tomorrow morning and look for a seller." She stood and extended a hand for her sister. "Come along Alice. Let's get ready for bed."


	8. Campfire Songs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More nighttime antics with the gang.

          That night was similar to the one before in that all but the Colonel and Sachem stayed up round the fire past sunset. Cora and Alice returned to the fire after the fathers left. They were wearing just their shifts, stockings, and shawls thrown over her shoulders and chests for modesty's sake. They may have stopped caring a little, but not entirely.

          Alice rested her head on Cora's shoulder and burned her eyes watching the bright firelight. Heyward had long ago removed his wig and hat, letting his wavy brown hair feel the wind. He hadn't had a hair cut in some time, so it looked somewhere between foolish and boyish. Though Hawkeye bore a similar cut and was blonder, his came across as more woodsy. He idly tossed dried pine needles into the flames. Uncas shuffled his feet closer and farther from the fire every now and then, feeling the difference in temperature with each little increment. Gamut musically mimicked the noises he observed all around him, from the higher tunes of the distant Barred Owl's call to the low drone of the flowing air through the village.

          Cora looked up at Hawkeye and asked (in a whisper so as not to wake the whole village). "I must ask, why do you live in these woods?"

          "Because it is my home." He replied, meeting the same low volume.

          "Were your parents trappers?"

          "No. That would have been a wise profession - to be moving so quickly we'd be untouchable and to be selling so we had more possession, as white families so desire. But no... My family comes from Connecticut. We moved into a Dutch colony in New York when I was young."

          "Really? Where do they live?"

          Not making eye contact, he muttered "They don't."

          Cora bowed her head in embarrassment and pity. "Oh, I'm sorry."

          "Don't be."

          She was prepared to drop the subject, but Alice was now enthralled in the sad tale of the woodsman. "Did they die recently?"

          "No."

          "How long ago?"

          He squinted in thought. "I was 12 years old so... as long ago as you've been alive."

          The girl leaned in. "Oh my, that's just awful. A boy with no parents! Did you have any other family to live with?"

          "No, but a man named Major Effingham took me in. I would carry his things around for him in battle. He treated me like one of his own family, though I was more of a feral child."

          "Then how did you befriend the Indians?"

          "I spent a great deal of time with the Delawares. I learned their culture and language very quick and found that I preferred their ways to those of the Brits - as much as I admire Major Effingham."

          This knowledge satiated Alice for the time being. In her mind, she could see the young Hawkeye dancing, hunting, and working with the Delawares. He must have been such a bright-eyed boy. Or maybe he was just as jaded then as he was now. The group continued to stare into the fire for a while longer. This time, it was Duncan who grew restless and wanted to strike up more conversation. "Have any of you ever played the odds game?"

          Hawkeye shook his head. "Is that something the soldiers do?"  

          "Yes, actually. What happens is one person says to another 'What are the odds you do this thing?' and the other person says a number. They then count down from 3 and name a number between 1 and the number they named. If they say the same number, the other must do that thing. It's like this: David, what are the odds you sleep in the wilderness tonight?"

          This caught Gamut rather off-guard. "Fifty!"

          "Ok, three. Two. One. Eleven!"           "Fourty-four!"

          "See," Explained Heyward, "Now he may sleep in the wigwam."

          "Ok, I see." The scout said. "Fine then, I'll participate. You begin again, Major."

          "Alright... Uncas!" The Mohican looked up at him. "What are the odds that you tell us a joke?"

          " _A joke_?" He replied, surprised by the mundane request.

          "Yes, let's hear some comic relief from our favorite stone-faced warrior." He looked at the Munro sisters for approval. They were smiling and leaning in to hear whatever he had to say, though the punchline may come out in broken English. Even Gamut gave the group his full attention.

          Hawkeye intervened. "No fair! He can't count in English. He only has ten fingers and ten toes."

          "No, Uncas, er, _I_ will play." The boy replied. He held up all ten of his fingers.

          "Ten? Ok, One. Two. Three." The Major held up seven fingers, and the lad did too.

          Heyward slapped his knee. They cheered "OOOH! Tell us a joke! Tell us a joke!", trying to maintain their whisper tones. Hawkeye was not amused, however.

          "Yes, yes. I have a joke." Uncas leaned in as if he was about to tell a secret, which prompted the rest to do the same. Still, Hawkeye didn't follow along. With great gravity, he asked "Who knows what the white man calls Hawkeye?"

          "La Longue Carabine." Replied Alice.

          He shook his head. "No, you. Ladies in the town. Men who wear wigs."

          They didn't answer, but kept their gazes locked on him. The boy smiled that charming smile and said "His name is... _Haha_! His name is... Na-" Before he could even get through the first syllable, he began laughing uncontrollably and contagiously, spreading it to the others. Their hearts were fluttering to see a somber fellow so light-hearted.

          "What is it!?!" Cora pleaded "I have to know I have to know I have to know!"

          "Na- **ha haha**! _Natty Bumppo_!" With this, he cracked up so hard that he fell over the log he sat on. Alice pressed her hands to her mouth to try and hold back chuckles while her sister was doubled over beside her. Gamut chuckled whole-heartedly and Duncan, an army man well versed in taunting his friends, pointed and laughed at the unsmiling, red-faced hunter.

          "It's not that funny." He insisted, trying to defend himself. "Just a moment ago, you all looked like you'd break out in womanly tears over the Bumppo family history, and now you are children!"

          His repetition of the name only served to feed their howls. Uncas kicked his legs in the air while lying supine, unable to find the strength or breath to pick himself back. He tried to keep his volume down, but was overtaken with childish glee.

          "Oh, let's move on, shall we?" The hunter demanded/begged.

          Cora swallowed her giddy feelings. "Ok, fine, fine! We've made Hawkeye tell us enough about himself for one night. Surely a man such as he isn't used to sharing a thing about himself at all, let alone so much at once. Uncas, I believe it is your turn. Uncas!"

          The boy feebly crawled back into place on the log, still snickering to himself. "HA! Yes, yes yes. My turn." He looked about the circle with his sparkling, mischievous eyes. Even the white woodsman had to get over his roast to admire that sweet face.

          "Natty!" He said, cackling once more to himself and re-hardening the heart of Hawkeye. He then said something to him in Delaware, leaving the other whites looking to Mr. Bumppo for a translation.

          "He said 'odds you sing a duet with the singing man.'"

          "He wants that?" Asked Gamut, honored and surprised.

          "Don't be flattered. 'Singing man' is a very polite translation on my part."

          "Oh... Even so."

          Hawkeye turned his attention back to Uncas and said "Nisuncák"

          "Nuqut, nis, shwi, yaw!"   "Yaw!"

          Victorious, Uncas drummed on Hawkeye's shoulder and laughed madly. The girls snickered to each other and Heyward mocked him some more. Gamut, beaming with pride, pulled out his song book and pitch pipe. "What good luck you have, my friend! This will be my first-ever singing lesson to an adult!"

          "Wow, lucky me."

          "Do you know if you are a tenor or bass?"

          "I can happily say I do not."

          "Here, then. Sing what I play if you can. Do not strain to mimic the note." David blew a C3 on the pitch pipe. The scout looked to Uncas for some mercy, which he didn't receive. Defeated, he sang the blasted note. This very much so amused the others.

          "Very very good!" Gamut said, next playing an E2. Hawkeye replicated this noise as well, eliciting a goofy smile from the choir teacher. "At last, a bass! Come here my friend! Look on my book with me."

          Begrudgingly, he did as David said.

          "This song is called Psalm 23. It sounds like this:" He played the simple yet sweet tunes of the verses and chorus, but Hawkeye was only half-listening. The rest tapped their feet to the beat as they began.

_"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want  
          He maketh me lie in green pastures"_

          Hawkeye was off pitch to begin with, but slowly corrected himself when David gave him a very teacher-ly glance of encouragement/reprimanding. The others chuckled.

 _"He leadeth me beside the still waters_  
         _With oil, my head, you anoint_  
_Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,_  
_I will fear no evil, for you are with me._  
_Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,_  
_I will fear no evil, for you are with me_ "

          At these serious lines, the countenance of the scout grew grave. Memories of a past life stirred in his heart. Memories of his mother sewing and singing. Memories of his sister hopping and humming. His heart was a flowering rosebush and the further it grew, the more it's thorns pierced his insides. Even Uncas himself was not smiling by the end of this. Alice was surprised by the suddenly serious atmosphere of the campfire circle to the point of slight fear. Duncan was equally confused and Cora looked tenderly upon the woodsman.

 _"Thou preparest a table before me_  
          _I will dwell in the house of the Lord_  
_Goodness and mercy shall follow me_  
_In the presence of my enemies_  
_Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,_  
_I will fear no evil, for you are with me._  
_Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death_ -"

          David and Hawkeye looked right at each other as they sang the last line:

_"I will fear no evil, for you are with me"_

          The singing teacher smiled but didn't speak. By then he knew that his student was a man of actions, not words. If he told him out loud how wonderful he was, it would scare him off. Rather, he communicated this with his expression. Hawkeye had no poker face. He had the saddest little puppy dog eyes that the world has ever known.

          Cora recognized he might just start crying. She knew from personal experience that nothing was more stress-inducing than keeping up a tough persona by swallowing a mountain of misery, so she took the spotlight off him immediately. "Make Alice go next! She's good at games."

          The weight of the world fell off his shoulders now that the subject had disappeared in thin air. "Ok, well, Alice... Odds you tell us what your first impressions of Heyward were."

          "No fair! You can't get two people in on one turn!" She protested.

          "Oh, he can." Retorted Duncan. "Surely you have nothing to hide!"

          "Mmm... Thirty."

          "One, two, three, fourteen!"       "Six!"

          "Damn!" Hawkeye grumbled. "That would have been a good one."

          "Why?" Defensively asked the Major. "You think I'm not a first-hand catch?"

          "Ha!" Uncas and the scout laughed, much wounding the other's ego.

          Alice took her love's hand. "Oh, don't fret. I thought you were great then and think even better of you with each passing day."

          He beamed. "Thank you."

          "Though you were a bit awkward."

          Now Cora and even Gamut chuckled. "You know, you could have left it there." He grumbled.

          "Nevermind that. It's your turn, Alice."

          She looked around the circle with her bright blue eyes. "Cora! Odds you..." The girl leaned in and whispered something into her sisters ear that seemed to both offend and fluster her.

          "Ten-thousand!"

          Duncan shook his head. "No, you need to pick a realistic number. No more than one hundred."

          "A hundred then. One, two, three, thirty-three."      "Eighty-one!"

          "Ah-ha! You didn't get me so I won't do it and that's that!"

          "Booo!" She heckled. "You have to do it anyway for being such a damper on things."

          "Nope, that's not how it works! Tell her Heyward! Tell her the rules."

          "Well, you're right, but on one hand, Alice really should have said the thing out loud. So... I think you should do it."

          "No, you're just saying that because you'll do whatever she wants! Not doin' it."

          Alice yielded. "Fine, fine. I'll get back to it later though, to be sure. Now you pick someone."

          "Alright, but after this we're all going to bed..." She looked around, "David! Odds you... Dance with me modern-style - like the youth of today - to one of Heyward's military drinking songs."

          He lightly gasped. "Miss Munro, I cannot support the spreading of such unholy verses!"

          "What if I omit the curse words?" Heyward offered.

          "One hundred!"

          "One hundred it is. One, two three, forty!"              "Forty!"

          As quietly as they could, the gang laughed and cheered and lost their shit. "I knew it!" Cora said. "Christ was in the desert forty days and forty nights. How predictable, Mr Gamut!"

          "Oh, Miss Cora, be merciful on me." He begged, eyes wide and sad.

          She would never pass up on the chance she'd just got. "Just follow my lead!"

          The two stood and so did Heyward, snapping at a quick pace. He sang beautifully. His tone of voice was youthful and light - a leggero tenor.

          _"Some say women are like the seas,  
          Some the waves and some the rocks,_

          Cora spun David around, and then he her. Her skirts flew just out of the fire's reach. The two kicked up dust in their wake which, combined with the fire's smoke, created an almost ethereal spectacle. All watched in amusement and awe.

          " _Some the rose that soon decays,  
          Some the weather and some the co- uh, fox._

          She giggled at Heyward's censoring of the "rooster", so to say. The pair spun and kicked and sprang with grace. The less-graceful of the two tried to follow the maiden's lead.  
           
          " _But if you'll give me leave to tell,_  
          There's nothing can be compared so well,  
          As wine, wine, women and wine  
          They run in parallel  
          They run in parallel"

          Cora stepped in triplets and twirled like a ballerina. David smiled, despite the fact that he was secularly dancing to secular music.

          _"Some say women are like the trees_  
          Some the dirt and some the grass  
          Some the birds and some the bees  
          Some the leaves and some the ass,

          David glared at him, insulted.

          "Er, I mean _the glass_."

          They went back to dancing. David picked Cora up in a bridal carry lift and spun around, her rhythmically kicking her legs. Alice cheered and Hawkeye laughed. Heyward smiled, singing the last chorus heartily.

          " _But if you'll give me leave to tell,_  
          There's nothing can be compared so well,  
          As wine, wine, women and wine!"

          Alice and Hawkeye quietly clapped for the performance, but Uncas didn't. He enjoyed it up until the bridal carry. When he himself bridal carried Cora, she gave him a kiss.

          " _They run in parallel"_

          If Gamut bridal carries Cora, then surely she'll kiss him too! He resolved to put an end to it. Uncas not-so-discreetly stood and pinched David on the shoulder -

          " _They run in para-"_

           - causing him to drop the lady right on the ground. She grunted upon hitting the dirt and her sister exclaimed. Uncas took a big step back and pretended like he didn't know a damn thing.

          "Careful Gamut! Don't throw her down around the fire!"

          "Ah! I'm so sorry my lady, I had a pain in my shoulder. I think something bit me!" He turned - like a dog chasing its tail - trying to get a look at the spot.

          Cora pointed right at the Mohican, who kept playing dumb. "He pinched you!"

          David gasped dramatically. "Miss Cora! How could you levy such an accusation at our dear, noble, brave, thoughtful Uncas?"

          "I'm telling you, he did it! Look at him trying to act none the wiser!"

          Uncas shrugged and made that universal "I don't know" face.

          " _I_ tell you, he would never pull such childish tricks on a man whose only crime is dancing. He did not do it!"

          "Did too!"

          Uncas replied "did not" for himself. Hawkeye said something in Lenape about him being jealous, to which the boy made a dismissive response. The scout persisted and he finally admitted his reasoning for what he did. The elder laughed.

          "What did he say?" Heyward asked.

          "Uh..." He looked at the outwardly cold expression on Uncas' face, but saw worry behind it. Friends don't let friends get caught in lies. "Uh, he said it was a really big mosquito."

          Gamut frowned. "Oh no. This is a punishment for reveling in Godless song and dance! We are having our blood stolen by Satan's creation."

          "Did God not make all things?" Hawkeye tested him.

          "Not mosquitoes. They, ticks, vampires, fleas, bedbugs, and leeches are all the devil's creations. I must go to the wigwam. I'm going to light a candle and try to bespy this blemish. Then I will say my prayers and ask forgiveness, which you should consider as well, my lady and Major." The lanky man walked away.

          Cora lazily laid down in the dirt, looking up at the night sky. Alice walked on her knees to her sister and sat beside her. "Are you ok?"

          "Oh, I'm ok. Just sad that I didn't get to finish dancing. The song isn't done."

          Uncas perked up. "I dance, er, I _will_ dance."

          She propped herself up on her elbows and gave him a mischievous look. "No, I've already danced with you once. Don't be greedy."

          Heyward approached and looked down at her. "I'll dance with you if you so wish."

          "No, you must sing with that beautiful voice of yours."

          "Me, then!" Volunteered Alice.

          "No, you cannot lift me up! I always lift you up because you're so light." She looked back over her shoulder at Hawkeye. "I bet you could lift me up."

          He exchanged the briefest of looks with Uncas and said "No, no. I don't dance. I'm more inclined to pressure others into dancing."

          Cora sat up. "Please?"

          "No, I don't dance."

          An impish gleam appeared in her eyes. "Perhaps La Longue Carabine isn't strong enough to lift me."

          He stuck his nose up. "I know not who you're talking about. No one among us is 'the long rifle'."

          She rolled her eyes. "I say that _Hawkeye_ thinks himself too weak to carry a lady. I don't know, maybe he's right."

          It was clear he was a little offended at this. "Miss, I've lifted things twice your size. You are like firewood."       

          "Then prove it! Just the last chorus, lift me up so I can finish the dance!"

          In a fit of pride, he agreed. Uncas felt betrayed but Hawkeye wasn't thinking of him. He had to prove his strength. The dancers chose a spot far enough away from the fire and he took her up in a bridal carry. Heyward began the chorus once more and they spun around like before.

          " _But if you'll give me leave to tell,_  
          _There's nothing can be compared so well,_  
 _As wine, wine, women and wine_  
 _They run in parallel_  
 _They run in parallel_ "

          At the end he set her back down. Her eyes shined like stars and her face blushed (though not for him). The feeling of triumph was fleeting and he realized how Alice and Heyward mimicked clapping (while not actually making the noise for fear of waking anyone).

          "Is that proof enough?" Hawkeye asked.

          "Yes." She said, patting his shoulder. "Thank you."

          He was going to say something, but was mentally cut off when he saw his dearest Uncas seething just out of direct firelight. His stomach dropped in anticipation of the shit he was going to get from him later.

          When Alice and Heyward began to take their leave, He rushed off on Heyward's heels. He knew that he couldn't get yelled at too bad in someone else's presence. However, Uncas was too upset to move. At least Cora hadn't kissed Hawkeye. He looked to make sure she was still there and, sure enough, she was. Standing there in the farthest reaches of the fire's glow, grinning at him.

          "Why so glum?"

          He shrugged.

          "Of all the men of our little group I danced with, you were the best." She drew closer to him.

          He hoped she couldn't see him blush.

          "And you're the strongest of all of them. You could lift me up like I was a pebble. Even stronger than Hawkeye. I'm not just saying that." She took a step towards him.

          "Wan-ih-shi."

          "Will you give me more than one word at a time?" Another step.

          "Yes."

          "Are you mad at me?" Another step. Now she was right in front of him.

          "Why, _ah_ , Unc- er, _I_ be mad?"

          "No reason, I guess."

          They just looked at each others' faces, inspecting their features. Neither made a move. Both were stone like they'd looked right at Medusa. Maybe seconds, hours, years, or centuries had passed when Cora finally leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips. His heart pounded with alarm and joy. She didn't pull away from him right away, but rather wrapped her arms around him in a hug. He reciprocated. When they stopped kissing, they still held one another. Finally, he smiled just as wide as she. _I'm in love_ , he told himself in his head. _I'm in love I'm in love I love her_.

          He started to ask something. "May I... May I-"

          "Kiss me? That's the word for what we just did." She put her forehead against his, grinning.

          " _Mustun_ in Lenape. _Wutam_ in Mohican."       

          "Whatever the word, you may."

          With this, he wasted not one more second of feeling his face not against hers. They kissed, and Cora couldn't help but smile. She pulled away from him and chuckled a little bit. He was confused.

          "How is it that I'm so enamored with someone who barely talks to me? I don't even know anything about you. I must be really stupid."

          "No!" He said, taking her hands in his. "We can speak."

          "Tomorrow, Uncas. Tonight is slipping away. We should get some sleep."

          He bowed his head, but looked back up when she put a hand on his face. One more time, she kissed him. It was waking up on his birthday. It was the Annual Corn Thanksgiving. It was the way his father talked about his mother. It was all those stupid sentimental things that Hawkeye scoffed at.

          They stopped and just touched foreheads. Cora's eyes were closed. Perhaps she prayed. Uncas' eyes were wide open. He couldn't let a second pass unseen, unfelt, nor unheard.

          "We should get some sleep." She said once more.

          "Yes." He replied.

          She wrapped her arms around him again. They kissed again, and the two felt like blazing matchsticks again. Many times she said they needed sleep, and many times again she would kiss him.


End file.
